Lord of the Rings: The Freakoship of the Ring
by Monty Python61
Summary: A fun parody, not in accordance with every aspect of the books or movies. Fido Gaggins begins his quest to destroy the thumb ring. CHAPTER TWELVE UP!
1. Chapter 1

The Lord of the Rings Trilogy

Book One

The Freakoship of the Ring

"I amar prestar sen: han mathon ne nen, han mathon ne chae…blah blah blah…The world is changed: I feel it in the water, I feel it in the earth, I smell it in the air...Much that once was is lost, blah blah blah….

It began with the forging of the great rings…three were given to the elf lords, wisest and fairest of all beings. Seven to the dwarf lords; great miners and craftsman of the mountain halls…blah blah blah...some were given to men, but Sauron tricked them because he had made a ring that controlled all the others and he tried to take over middle earth but elves and men fought him and they won but the ring never was destroyed and it came to Bilbop Gaggins and yah."

Two Thousand Five Hundred Years Later

Fido Gaggins lay under a rather shady tree reading a book in Elvish. The only trouble he was having was that he could not understand Elvish so the book was quite boring. Annoyed, he chucked the bothersome book over his shoulder. He shut his eyes prepared to make up for the lack of sleep he had gotten the night before. He knew that staying up late making pastries would have its effects, but he did not know they would be so tiring. As he settled into his nice little nook, he heard a horrible ear pitching squealing coming from down the road. Wanting to turn the noise down so he could get some sleep, he wearily got up to go see what the source of the racket was. He walked to the edge of the road and before long, around the bend came a large cart pulled by a large horse and a man with an extremely large nose. His mouth was opened wide, and out of his very wide open mouth came the most awful noise you could ever wish to hear. The man pulled the cart to a stop, and closed his mouth. Fido looked at the old man with an evil eye. The old man looked at Fido with a curious eye.

"Hello Fido my boy!" he said cheerily, grinning from ear to ear.

"Hello Graydalf," Fido returned his evil eye never moving.

"Well I daresay you've grown!" the wizard exclaimed, looking at Fido's very short height. It was a complete lie of course. But the wizard excelled at that sort of thing.

"And I daresay that you are a fruity old bat," Fido retorted, knowing the lie.

"You daresay?" said Graydalf, shocked.

"I dare to say it," said Fido.

"Hmmmm," the wizard gave Fido an evil eye.

"Hmmmm," Fido gave the wizard an evil eye.

They gave each other an evil eye.

"I need a ride," Fido hopped, uninvited, into the cart.

"I am not a taxi service," Graydalf said, very annoyed.

"And I do not care. Drive on." Fido felt extremely snooty that day, and really did not care if he hurt the wizard's feelings at all.

Huffy and irritated by Fido's aloofness, Graydalf drove on. He knew that he should have turned Fido into a frog or a cricket or something.

They pulled into Hobbiton, with Fido yelling at Graydalf's horse the entire way to go faster. The horse had no intention of paying attention to a three-foot high curly top creature and only went slower. This put Fido in a foul mood. He had already been in a foul mood, but this put him in a fouler one. He angrily folded his arms over his chest and his lower lip hung out, wagging temptingly. He decided he had had enough of the impudent horse and its master, and hastily pulling Graydalf's hat over his eyes, he leapt out of the cart.

Enraged, Graydalf straightened his hat and swore to loathe Fido for evermore. He did, however, look forward to seeing his old friend Bilbop. He hoped that Bilbop had not changed at all, for he did not want to have to deal with a senile Hobbit for all the days he was staying.

Pulling the cart up to Bilbop's front gate, he could easily see that the house had been well taken care of. "Well," thought the wizard, "he must not be very senile to have remembered to maintain the grounds as well has he has." With this comforting thought, he gingerly went up the steps, careful that he did not trip on his robe, and rapped on the door with his staff.

A muffled voice came from inside. "No thank you! I don't want any more visitors, well-wishers or distant relations!" This did not faze Graydalf. "And what about very old friends?"

The door opened and the face of Bilbop appeared. Graydalf knelt down to give the hobbit a large hug.

"Who the 'ell are you?" Bilbop said angrily, attempting to slam the door. Graydalf, taken aback, shoved his staff into the door.

"I am Graydalf…don't you remember me? When you went to the lonely mountain?" he pleaded.

"Oh yeah," Bilbop remembered, "that old bat. A lot of good you did us, what with disappearing like that," he kicked the wizard in the shin.

"OW!" Graydalf roared, hopping up and down holding his leg.

Bilbop turned to go inside. Having nowhere else to go, Graydalf followed him.

"Where do you think you're going?" Bilbop asked, getting ready to kick again.

"Well I have nowhere to stay so I thought…" Graydalf started.

"Forget it! I shall not have a fruity old bat staying in MY house!" Bilbop retorted rudely.

"Like uncle like nephew," thought Graydalf glumly. Aloud he said, "Well I AM staying here whether you like it or not." He shoved his way inside.

"GET OUT I SAY, GET OUT!" Bilbop screamed, going red in the face.

"No," said Graydalf calmly. He sat in one of the tiny chairs in the tiny living room.

"So, how have things been with you, Graydalf?" asked Bilbop, apparently forgetting his hatred of the old man.

Graydalf, in surprise, replied, "Oh, JUST peachy."

"That's nice. Care for a cup of tea? I have green tea, regular, decaffeinated, caffeinated, extra caffeinated, extra extra caffeinated, and…oh that's all. So what will it be?" Bilbop asked, stepping toward the kitchen.

"Oh, decaffeinated please. I can't stand being all hyper. It wears my energy," Graydalf replied, trying to forget the time he had drunk seven cups of coffee that was supposedly decaffeinated. It, of course, was not and he was on full blast all week. Not to mention he had many trips to the john. That Saruman had always been a trickster.

Bilbop ran off to the kitchen to make some tea, and accidentally made coffee mixed with tea. "Ah yes," he continued, "best tea in town. Can't get any better unless you travel to the Northwestsoutheast farthing," he said.

"The where?" asked Graydalf, mindlessly flipping through the latest issue of Kitchens and More! "Is this magazine Fido's?" he asked.

"Absolutely quite out of the ordinary. Never have seen anything like it in my life. It was a real bother to do so you know. Took me three and a quarter hours it did!" exclaimed Bilbop, eating a piece of cake.

"What in the 'ell are you talking about?" gasped the wizard, choking on the horrendous coffee-tea.

"Why, the preparations for my thirty-fourth birthday of course!" Bilbop said condescendingly, looking very disapproving, cake smeared across his face.

Graydalf gave up. It was not, of course, Bilbop's thirty-fourth birthday; rather it was his one hundred and eleventh. Suddenly, Graydalf began shaking and he felt very hyper. "BILBOP!" he screamed, his words all jittery, "is this stuff caffeinated?"

"Why of course. I made extra extra caffeinated just like you asked." Bilbop grabbed his bath towel and singing horribly stomped to the bathroom.

"Oh for the love of..." Graydalf said. Shaking considerably, he lay down for a snooze.


	2. Chapter 2: Bilbop's Party

Hi all! Thank to you who read this story, and to those who reviewed. You are much appreciated. (Even the flames lol)

Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR of any of its characters. If I did I would be living in LA with two bimmer, a few vipers, some jest, and not be writing fanfiction. I would just pay someone to do it for me lol.

The Lord of the Rings

The Freakoship of the Ring

Chapter Two

Bilbop's Party

At four in the afternoon, two and a half hours later, Bilbop got out of the now cold bath and meanly blasted a horn in Graydalf's ear. Graydalf shrieked and leaped two feet into the air.

"Hee hee," Bilbop cackled insanely, "time for my party, you ready you old fart?"

"I am not going," said Graydalf haughtily.

"YOU have to operate the dumb old fireworks!" Bilbop stomped his large hobbit foot.

"I am too caffeinated for fun," said Graydalf, looking evilly at Bilbop.

"You are too old for fun," retorted Bilbop, seemingly pleased with his response.

At the party, Fido and Spam sat glumly at a table pouting because no girls wanted to dance with them. Fido was even more annoyed because he had baked a bazillion pies and tarts and no one ate them. He never considered that the tomato parsley icing might be the culprit. Mirroy and Floppin were chasing each other throughout the party knocking tables over and wreaking havoc.

"Say, Spam, why don't you ask Snozie to dance?" Fido motioned at an ugly girl with an afro.

Spam took no notice of his friend.

Graydalf came and sat next to the hobbits, his hands shaking and his mouth quivering. "Say-ay, how's th-the night go-o-ing?"

"SPLENDID!" Fido screamed.

Graydalf shot him a horrid look and shakily went to operate the fireworks. During the evening, many a firework crashed into the ground before it was in the air and a few wobbled a bit in the air before crashing. Hobbits had to be on the constant lookout for stray rockets.

Bilbop was wandering aimlessly and asking people what the party was for.

Mirroy and Floppin had shot off a particularly dangerous looking rocket, which burst into flame and took on the resemblance of a dragon that was extremely cross-eyed. The two's curls were singed but they found it extremely amusing when Graydalf grabbed each by the ear and made them wash dishes. They found it amusing because as they were washing, Graydalf fell asleep and they drew "Don't eat me, I taste old" on his forehead. Poor Graydalf went around the rest of the party that way and thought himself quite amusing and jolly for all the hobbits laughed hysterically when he passed by.

Fido was embarrassing himself out on the dance floor by doing his horrendous dance moves which he thought were sexy and modern. He leaped up and flapped his elbows like a chicken and flashed a suave smile at a pretty girl nearby who hastily began dancing with another hobbit.

Later, Fido pushed Bilbop up onto a tree stump and told him very harshly to make a speech. Bilbop looked very confused for he really had no idea where he was. "Hello my dear folk!" he began. Graydalf thought he was doing splendidly for a senile hobbit. "I welcome you here tonight to celebrate the invention of cheesecake! How marvelously delicious string cabbage is! You must be always on your guard for…" Fido pushed him off the stump and Bilbop fell and his finger went into the ring. He promptly disappeared. Fido was annoyed. Graydalf was hysterical. Mirroy and Floppin were drunk. The hobbits were shocked. Fido climbed upon the stump. "Not to worry my dear fellows! Have some more of my Cranberry pie!" Everyone gagged.

Bilbop ran up the stairs to his hobbit-hole still wearing the ring. He entered into his house and closed the door. Taking off the ring he looked at it with contempt. "Why do I even have you? You cause nothing but trouble! You never wipe your shoes when you come in on a rainy muddy day! I should toss you out on your rear!" he screamed at the non-responsive hunk of metal.

Graydalf kicked Bilbop. "Stop fooling around and get on with it!"

"On with what?"

Graydalf turned cherry-red and nearly beat himself in the brain with frustration. "ON WITH YOUR PLAN TO LEAVE HOBBITON!!" he screamed clenching his fists.

"I NEVER want to leave," Bilbop retorted, stroking the ring, apparently having forgotten his hatred of it.

"You must give the ring to Fido!"

"But… whyyyyyy?" Bilbop whined, his decrepit mouth pulled into an upside down U, wrinkles everywhere. "I have stayed much younger-looking while I have kept it! Right?

Graydalf looked sheepishly at him. "Yea!" he lied, "you look splendid! Not a day over 100…I mean 40." He chuckled nervously, wiping sweat off his brow.

"You queer old frog!" Bilbop hollered, his wrinkled face contorting into a nasty-looking snarl.

Graydalf sighed and sat wearily on a couch much too small for his rather large rear. "Bilbop, you must leave. The elves are waiting for you, you know."

"The elves stink! To 'ell with them! The ring is mine I say, mine mine mine mine!" Bilbop went red in the face, which did not help his appearance in any way.

Graydalf had had enough and hit Bilbop's small fist, which clenched the ring, and sent the ring flying across the room. He then booted the hobbit in the butt out the door.

Bilbop, having forgotten everything that just took place, said merrily, "I have thought up an ending for my book." He looked at Graydalf who was very angry.

"And he trips and falls, to end his days," Graydalf finished.

Bilbop thought this satisfactory and tripped and fell headlong down the stairs. To Graydalf's disappointment, he rose and continued on his way.

'Now to deal with his wretched nephew,' Graydalf thought unhappily.

Review I doth command thee!


	3. Chapter 3: Thumb Ring to Rule the Mall

Well, I must say that this story is getting a different response than I expected. You people need to lighten up a little. Understand that this is not supposed to be a great literary work, but fun. Flaming me does not accomplish anything. I am not deleting this story so if you think it should be deleted, don't bother telling me. If you find legitimate grammar or writing mistakes or just suggestion to make it better then I would be happy hearing them.

Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR but I wish I did

The Lord of the Rings

The Freakoship of the Ring

Chapter Three: The Thumb Ring to Rule the Mall

Fido ambled back to his house expecting to find a cranky and sour-faced Bilbop, but instead he found a cranky and sour-faced wizard. He opened the door and saw Graydalf just sitting extremely close to the fire muttering like a lunatic. He saw the ring lying on the floor in front of him and wondered why Bilbop had left it there. He picked it up. Leaving the door wide open, in the usual Fido-style, he skipped over to Graydalf and honked his large nose. "Beep!" he shrieked jovially, hopping about until Graydalf whacked him on the ear.

"Knock it off, you pathetic excuse for a hobbit," Graydalf growled, his bushy eyebrows moving up and down, his eyes shifting maliciously. (The shifty-eyes Fido always called them.) "You need to take the ring now that your uncle kicked the bucket," said Graydalf, pretending that Bilbop had died.

"YAY!" Fido screamed, leaping in the air and clicking his heels together. "He's dead, gone, croaked, deceased, departed…hooray!" Fido had never been happier. He waved his gangly arms theatrically over his head, showing his overflowing gut.

Graydalf socked him in the stomach. "On with it. I must go now. I have urgent business with Showerman the Tricky. Do whatever you want with the ring. Bye." He left the hobbit hole very quickly.

Fido looked after him with his all-famous evil eye. He looked at the ring with the same evil eye. He tried it on but it was too big for any finger besides his thumb. He remembered that the only finger Bilbop had ever worn it on was his thumb as well. Not paying this any mind, he went to bed invisible and feeling very safe.

Meanwhile, Snack Riders charged out of their lair, Minas Mallhill, toward the Shire.

Graydalf arrived at Minas Rearith late in the evening. After chatting gaily with the frozen mute guards, who were guarding the white tree, he continued on his way to the library. He wished to find the best tricks in the book before going to see Saruman the Tricky. He wanted to have a few good comebacks for retaliation. Instead of finding any, he happened upon a scroll which read in bold capital letters, "IF A CERTAIN PERSON FINDS A GOLD RING HE SHOULD IMMEADIATELY RETURN IT TO ITS RIGHTFUL OWNER, DENETHOR OF GONDOR. IN REWARD FOR THIS, SAID PERSON WILL RECEIVE A REWARD BEYOND ANYONE'S IMAGINATION WILL OCCURR. I REMAIN, GENTELMEN, YOUR OBEDIENT SERVANT, DOG." (Denethor of Gondor)

Graydalf, for some odd reason, realized that the ring he had given Fido was the Thumb Ring! The Thumb Ring to rule the Mall! He was ecstatic. He hastily leaped onto his horse, which was quite a feat for the old prune, and galloped wildly to Hobbiton.

Fido, back at Sag Bend danced about happily, making his way to his house. He thought warmly of making himself a pineapple tart with kiwi sauce for a midnight snack. He fondly remembered his new bread maker with extra room for more dough for extra large loaves. As he stepped inside the dark house he thought chillingly how all the twisting branches in the dark reminded him of old horror movies. "It is as if a hand would just reach out and grab you. Thank goodness those were only movies…AUUUUGH!" A hand had reached through the black sea of unlighted air and grabbed the unwary Fido's shoulder.

"Shut up you stupid hobbit! This is an errand of secrecy! If anyone finds out…" Graydalf realized that he had been screaming at the top of his lungs, and that a large group of hobbits stood in the doorway, which Fido had left open again. "Uh, I mean, good to see you Fido! Nothing has been out of the ordinary. Just wanted to stop by and see how you were doing heh heh."

The hobbits seemed annoyed to have been awoken for something as trivial as an old coot stopping by to see his friend. They went back to their houses.

"What the bloody 'ell are you doing here, you rotten old apple?" Fido insulted, his hands planted girlishly on his giggly hips.

"I WAS going to warn you that the Nine have awoken because you have the Thumb Ring to Rule the Mall! And you know how Shopperman wants that ring! Without it, Malldor is incomplete!" Graydalf screamed quietly, waving his arms histrionically.

"But how do you know this IS the Thumb Ring? After all, there must be plenty of golden rings out there!" Fido argued, his Buddha belly wagging.

"Does it fit on any finger besides your thumb?"

"No."

"Well then, THAT'S how you know," Graydalf yelled, very annoyed. "We could also throw it in the fire and see if any writing appears on it."

"What gave you that idea?" Fido asked, pouring himself a cup of tea, but spilling some and burning himself.

"Oh, just a hunch," Graydalf shrugged.

"Ok, I don't care much what happens to it," Fido said lackadaisically and tossed the ring in the fire.

Graydalf, not expecting Fido to be so careless, hurriedly seized the fire tongs and plucked the ring out of the fire. The ring still in the tongs, he held it out to Fido. "Here, hold out your hand. It's quite cool."

"YOU take it," Fido said wisely.

Knowing it was scalding, Graydalf gave Fido his most evil eye, and Fido put out his hand. Graydalf dropped the ring toward Fido's open palm. It sizzled and fried to Fido's hand, while he screamed bloody murder. Graydalf chuckled under the cover of his beard. He found that he could conceal many great things under that monstrosity. He kept his bottle of cologne, a few cans of chocolate covered almonds, a few Swiffers, a bottle of rum, and his cat. Well, he kept his cat there until it finally died.

Anyways, after a few minutes of holding his hand under cold water, Fido looked to see if any writing had appeared. Some fiery scrawls had gradually emerged but he could not read them due to his lack of an education.

"Goodness gracious!" Graydalf cried, "it's just the common tongue, not even Elvish!" He snatched the ring and looked at the words. "It says, 'Warning: Not for ages 3 and under. Do not swallow'."

"Well!" Fido exclaimed, "THAT clears everything up," He fumed, his sarcastic words lingering in the silence.

Review I doth command thee!


	4. Chapter 4

Hi everyone!

Rabbid Rabbit's Rampage: I am sooooo glad at least someone likes it! Thanks for your positive review! No, I am not abandoning those stories. See, our computer was reformatted and then we got a new computer. When I went back to get my files off out old one, they were gone. So I lost half of both those stories so it is taking me a while to write them again. That first LOTR story I wrote a few years ago and has horrible punctuation but is still pretty funny. It's just hard to spend alot of time writing stories when you have tons of school papers to write lol! I hope you like this chappy! It's pretty short, but i hope good! It may take me a few days to update again...I am going to also try and pop out a few more chaps for those other ones too! Happy New year!

Chapter 4: Showerman

"Well," said Graydalf presently, "I am _pretty_ sure this is the Thumb Ring. I am, after all, the wisest and fairest of all beings."

At this, Fido let out a guffaw and blew little flecks of spittle over onto Graydalf. The both of them knew that Graydalf was neither wise nor fair, especially the latter.

Calmly wiping his cheek, Graydalf yanked one of Fido's curls rather hard and took a sip of his now cold tea.

Fido shot horrid glares in Graydalf's direction while Graydalf packed some bags.

"Get over here and pack your own bags!" Graydalf yelled.

Just then, they hear a noise outside the window. "Quick! Hide! It might be the one of the Snack Riders!" Graydalf hissed at Fido.

Fido paid no attention and went over to the window and opened it. A fat face popped up grinning ear to ear. "What are you grinning at Spam?" Fido snarled, cuffing Spam's ear. Fido was a really dreadful hobbit.

"Nothing sir!" Spam shut his eyes.

Graydalf batted Fido with his staff and he fell headlong into the fire. "Oops!" Graydalf cried, hastily retrieving him and fanning him off, "I detest the creature but I need him to go to Mount Perfume and toss the Thumb Ring in the…" he suddenly remembered Spam who was standing there still grinning. "What ARE you grinning at?" he hollered. He yanked Spam into the room. Spam was not at all afraid of Graydalf or Fido, for he thought that Graydalf was a bit fruity, and that Fido was even fruiter.

"Spam, now that you have heard everything, you have to accompany Fido on his journey," Graydalf said.

"Ok, but I want in writing that I can't be sued for any misfortune that befalls Fido either by my hands, or anyone else's," he demanded, holding out a legal paper for Graydalf to sign. Graydalf grinned and signed the paper. He was beginning to like this Spam fellow.

Fido raised his head from the floor and saw Spam sitting in a lounge chair, sipping tea and chatting merrily with Graydalf. "Hey! You two are supposed to be helping me get away, not having a party!" he yelled.

Spam shot him an evil glare and poked him in the gut.

"Ow!" Fido yelped, holding his sore belly.

"Oh man up, sissy!" Graydalf screamed, his large nose turning red like an apple. He felt rather hot and fanned his red face, which was warm with fury.

"You're no tough guy either," Spam muttered under his breath.

"Eh?" Graydalf turned his ear to Spam, who shook his head and pointed at Fido.

The merry trio headed out the door early in the morning. Graydalf always insisted on singing a song to "start the day off right" he said.

Graydalf had a horrid way of singing in a high nasally falsetto which pierced through the clear morning silence like a machine gun through tissue paper.

Plugging their ears, Spam and Fido hauled their packs onto their backs (Fido fell over at first) and went on their way. Fido kept tripping on roots and falling on his face.

Later that morn, Graydalf stopped them in a random part of the forest, and began, it seemed, a rather well rehearsed speech. "My dear hobbits, to you who are, today, setting out on an errand of utmost secrecy and importance I give you this final word of hope and comfort. Do not wear the ring or the snack riders will find you and cut your throats. Farewell, or, Farebad! Either way makes no difference to me." He galloped away.

Fido looked at Spam and they shrugged and continued walking, not really caring about Graydalf's speech in the least.

Back with Graydalf, he was making his way to meet with Showerman. He knew that Showerman would have some tricks up his sleeve, and Graydalf had nothing to play in return so he was rather dreading this conference.

As he rode up, his horse whinnied loudly and reared up on its hind legs, throwing Graydalf to the pebble pathway. "GAH MY BACK!" he gasped, holding his backside. The horse, scared by Graydalf's hollering, began to trample him. A loud pop resounded from his back, and the pain was gone! Now annoyed, Graydalf whacked the horse and got up, then kicking the poor beast. The horse looked at him mournfully. He threw a lump of sugar at it. He then continued on his path of destiny.

The large tower of Piesengard rose menacingly through the grand old trees, which surrounded it, its black coldness sending a shiver through Graydalf's now-fixed spine. The four pinnacles looked like four spits that one would use to cook chickens with over an open fire. This thought, Graydalf felt, was rather funny. He approached the long stairway, and saw a fat white figure coming down the stairs at a ridiculously slow pace. It was Showerman.

R and R please!


	5. Chapter 5

Hi everyone! Thanks for your reviews!

Mister Frodo: Thanks for your support...I LOVE your stories...especially Tugging on a Rope. I laughed SO hard.

Chapter Five: Shelf Singing

As he made his way down the long flight of black steps, Graydalf could see Showerman's long white hair, white cloak and neon green shoes. Showerman always insisted on wearing some sort of color on his drab outfit. Graydalf did not care much what his clothes looked like, but rather took more care of his teeth.

"Hello Graydalf," Showerman said in his high voice, his triple chins wagging. "What brings you here at such a late hour?"

Graydalf looked at the mid-day sun. "Uh…oh never mind. I came to see you to talk to you about the Thumb Ring. It has been found."

"Oh pish posh. Tell me the _real_ reason you came to see me," he said, not believing Graydalf.

Graydalf frowned and bellowed, "It IS the real reason you dummy!"

"Oh." Showerman looked embarrassed. "Well what did you need to see ME for?"

"Well, to ask for advice about what to do with it."

"Ok. Come up into the black room I have and we can talk. I don't know why my house is so very dark. I AM Showerman the White after all," he argued with himself, while climbing the long flights of stairs.

Graydalf liked the name he gave him of Showerman the Tricky better. He thought himself very clever when he thought of this unoriginal name. When they entered the black room, Graydalf could not help but look at the unusual pieces of art on the walls. There were all sorts of modern-looking things, lines and squares and huge circles and Graydalf felt as if they looked like a child had created them.

"I like my Picassos, don't you?" Showerman asked.

"Not particularly," was Graydalf's reply.

"Oh. Well do sit down and take some tea!" Showerman motioned to a lounge chair.

Graydalf sipped his tea but it tasted extremely salty. "Did you put salt in this?" he asked.

Showerman slapped his knee and howled with childish laughter. "I fooled you! Hahahahahaha!" He cackled maniacally.

"No…you just put salt in my tea…you didn't FOOL me," Graydalf reproached looking disapprovingly at the fat wizard.

Disheartened, Showerman grabbed his tin of Chips Ahoy, and began munching.

Graydalf rolled his eyes.

Showerman began mumbling insanely, little bits of cookie spewing from his lips.

"When did you abandon reason for cookies?" Graydalf asked, grabbing the cookie tin and chucking it out the window.

Showerman did not answer but continued mumbling and rocking back and forth.

Graydalf slapped Showerman's fat face.

"Hey!" Showerman yelled, "what did you do that for?"

"You were mumbling incoherently, you old bag," shot Graydalf.

"I know. It's what I do when I need comfort. I talk to myself," the other said, returning Graydalf's slap.

After forty-five minutes of fighting, Showerman with his enormous 400lb self sat directly onto Graydalf's humble 145lb frame.

"GAH!" Graydalf screamed, the air being forced out of him.

Showerman sent for some of the porks he kept around his tower to bring Graydalf up to the top of Piesengard.

Back with Fido and Spam, they continued on their way through fields and plains, over hill and under dale. At night they took out their soft inflatable air mattresses and huffed and puffed while pumping them up and then went to sleep, heads resting on lovely feather pillows.

One night, Spam, with his excellent hearing, thought he heard some singing. He nudged Fido with his elbow. "Hear that?" he hissed, " I think it's Shelves what are singing!" He leapt up and ran towards the singing with Fido scrambling after him.

The hid themselves behind an old log to watch the scene. Shelves were walking along with their beautiful clothes, lovely singing coming from their direction-singing too lovely for words. Although they were mesmerized, Spam could not help but think that it was odd that they were all women until Fido told him that all Shelf men look exactly the same as the Shelf women. The singing continued until a Shelf who was right in front of the hobbits accidentally dropped something and all the singing stopped. The hobbits gasped. The Shelves had been lip-syncing. Spam said, "I dunno why, but it makes me sad." The boom box had been the source of the music. But fortunately, that same Shelf had an extra radio, and pressed play. The singing resumed.

After getting bored looking at the Shelves, the hobbits returned to their campsite.


	6. Chapter 6: The Audit

Hi again! Thanks everyone for your reviews!

July 47th: Thanks for reading the story! I am glad you think it's funny. Some people just don't have a sense of humor. Anyways, I hope you like this chapter!

Chapter Six: The Audit

One day Fido and Spam were walking through a cornfield and Fido kept trying to eat the raw corn ears, insisting that he liked it that way. Once, Fido thought he saw something shiny through the corn, off the path. Being Fido, he immediately went after it. Spam turned around and, not seeing Fido anywhere, was mildly happy. Unluckily for him, Fido soon tore though the corn with a piece of tinfoil in his hands waving it triumphantly. They continued walking. Soon, Fido thought he saw another shiny object and when he happened upon it, he found that it was Floppin dressed in shiny spandex taking a nap. Fido stared at him. A second later, Mirroy crashed into Spam.

"What the 'ell is going on?" Spam screamed, pushing Mirroy off himself violently.

Fido kicked Floppin in the gut meanly. "Get up!" He yelled.

Floppin leapt up and keeled over. "Gah! What was that for?" He asked, glaring at Fido.

"Why are you wearing spandex?" Fido sneered.

"Because, unlike you, I can pull it off," Floppin said haughtily, poking Fido's jelly-belly. "Had one too many doughnuts huh, Fido?" He giggled.

Before Fido had time to respond, they heard a bellowing voice coming their way.

"Quick! Run!" Mirroy hissed and began dragging Spam by the ear.

"What?" said Spam loudly.

"It's the auditors! They've been after us for months!" Mirroy replied.

"No!" contradicted Floppin, "it's the Visa company you moron! Remember? You never made the payment on that bill for the twenty-seven thousand dollar boat!"

"I thought _you_ paid that bill!"

"I don't have any money! You're the one who's loaded!" Flop yelled.

"No! I went bankrupt last month!" Mirroy returned, frantically looking over his shoulder.

"WHAT? Why didn't you tell me? If I had known I would never have ordered that antique cotton candy machine the other day!" Flop began running for his life, the others followed. Fido and Spam were extremely confused. "Anyways, I dunno why they're so upset! It's only a couple grand!"

"The point is, they're clearly overreacting!" Mirroy yelled back.

The four hobbits kept running until Fido became tired and pushed Floppin down a steep hill. "Just DIE!" he screamed as Flop tumbled down the hill.

"AS YOU WISH!" cried Floppin as he was rolling.

Fido remembered that Floppin had lost in a game of Smoker and owed him thirty-two bucks. "What have I done?" he thought, and threw himself down after him.

Not having anything else to do, Mirroy and Spam carefully picked their way down the hill, which was not very steep after all.

When they reached the bottom, Mirroy and Spam saw Fido and Floppin beating on each other.

"BING BING BIING!" Mirroy made wrestling sounds. Floppin pinned Fido. "ONE, TWO, THREE, AND WE HAVE A WINNER!" Mirroy got down one knee and banged his arm on the ground three times and then grabbed Floppin's arm and held it over his head.

Fido was miserably rolling the filth. He got up and brushed himself and said airily, "Well, Floppin, you had better be thankful that I didn't use my expert moves. Hiiiiiii yahhh!" He tried doing a kung-foo move. Floppin snickered. Spam was enjoying himself immensely.

While Spam was congratulating Floppin, Fido thought he could sense that something was coming towards them from down the road. "Quick, hide!" he screamed, dashing into the woods and under a large tree's roots. Bewildered, the others followed.

"What's the matter?" Mirroy asked.

Fido put his finger to his mouth and peered between the roots to get a peek. Soon, a large garbage truck passed by. '_That can't be it!"_ Fido thought. A minute later, when Spam had just about had enough of Fido, a strange person on a horse came along smelling extremely like cheese puffs.

The person, who was dressed in all black except for an orange fanny pack, got off his horse and knelt on the ground and began sniffing. When he sniffed, he accidentally inhaled some pollen and let out a large sneeze. When he sneezed, little bits of orange powder came from his mouth. Mumbling to himself, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag of Cheetos and began munching very fast. After he had gobbled the entire bag of cheese puffs, he then ate the plastic bag thinking it very tasty. Fido was repulsed. The rider began sniffing again. More pollen went up his nose and he sneezed again. Very mad, he got back on his horse and rode away to go buy some Zyrtec.

Fido sighed with relief, and then they all began running. After about fifty feet, Fido was gasping for breath and yanked them to a stop.

"What was that?" Mirroy asked.

Fido did not answer, but looked at the thumb ring, which was hanging around his neck.


	7. Chapter 7

Hey people!! Thanks for your reviews and I am so sorry it has taken me so long to update. I have had a lot of school lately. Hope you enjoy this chappy!!

That night, the hobbits were creeping loudly though the forest attempting to be stealthy. Mirroy and Floppin were still fighting about monetary issues and Spam and Fido were not on speaking terms but _were_ on punching terms. They crunched noisily over the leaves until Spam saw another rider in the dusk. "Get down!" he hissed, yanking Fido flat on his face.

"Hey!" Fido screamed angrily swatting at Spam with his handy flyswatter.

Mirroy and Floppin stopped arguing for a moment and knelt on the ground and looked at the vanishing form of the rider.

"What is that?" Mirroy asked Fido who was rather embarrassed.

"It's a snack rider," Spam answered instead.

"Can you buy it?" Floppin asked stupidly.

"You really have a serious problem," reproached Spam looking at Floppin disgustingly. Floppin hung his head.

"They're gonna get me! I am so dead! I don't wanna die!" Fido wailed pathetically cowering in a ball.

"We need to get to Spree, and fast," said Spam kicking Fido in the gut.

"Okay, we need to get to Blueberry Ferry," Mirroy alleged, pointing in a general direction and then changing his mind and pointing in the opposite direction. He grinned sheepishly.

"Serenity now!" Spam prayed, throwing his hands over his head.

They all began running, following Mirroy who kept changing his mind and turning in different directions. As Fido was stumbling along, his giant stomach wagging in the night breeze, one of the Snackers leapt out, on a horse, directly in front of him. It let out an unearthly scream, like something heavy metal artist make, and charged toward him. The other three hobbits continued running, not caring if Fido died. They all ran and jumped over a fence and hastened for the ferry. Fido was much slower and waddled after them, and tried and failed miserably to jump the fence. He simply landed on his head. The rider was gaining on him, and the others were untying the ferry and were preparing to let it go adrift when Fido shuffled as fast as he could and hurled himself into the air and landed in the water. He immediately sank, but his flailing arm had grabbed hold of a rope, attached to the ferry, that was floating in the water. He hoisted himself on the boat and waved and wagged his tongue at the rider stranded on the shore.

The other hobbits were bitterly disappointed that he hadn't died. They pushed the boat to shore, and when they got to the other side it had begun to rain heavily, making Fido's eyeliner run down his face.

"You wear makeup" Spam cried in disbelief and horror.

"So?" said Fido haughtily.

They came to the gate and Floppin knocked loudly, almost breaking the flimsy gate with his puny fist. The gateman, who wore extremely thick coke-bottle glasses, opened a hatch and turned his bulbous eyes onto the four hobbits. "What do you shrimps want?" he fairly screamed, a cigar hanging out of his mouth.

Fido addressed the man. "We want to love, and to be loved, we want to see, and bee seen, we want to hear, and be heard, we want to eat, and be eaten…"

Spam socked him in the stomach. "That's not how that poem goes, moron!"

"How would _you_ know? I only just made it up, ha!" Fido retorted saucily.

Defeated, Spam spoke to the man who was puffing angrily. "Sir, we just wish to spend a night at the Stationary Unicorn, and get a good night's rest."

"Oh, well then be off with you!" The man opened the gate and held up a lantern, which was positively useless because there were almost no holes in it.

The hobbits made their way through the town, and finally saw the friendly neon blinking sign of the Stationary Unicorn. They all slipped in, and were instantly awed by what they saw. Huge men were lumbering about, drinking huge mugs of ale. Rock music was playing and there was a big cage where two men were fighting. There were a few hobbits, but those who were there were mostly being used as darts, being thrown at a large dartboard, by a group of exceptionally big men. Our four hobbits had no wish to be used as darts so they hurriedly ordered a few rooms from the obviously high innkeeper and went there immediately. After an hour or so of being extremely bored, they decided to venture out and see if the dart-men had left. To the hobbits great pleasure they had. They instantly ordered ale and bread and were having a merry time.

A dark man was constantly watching them from a corner booth. Fido noticed that he had ordered spare ribs with extra barbecue sauce. He asked the bartender who the man was. "Oh," the innkeeper said, "that there is Wider." "Why is he called that?" Fido asked. "Because he has the widest feet anyone has ever seen." Fido, who had restless finger syndrome, or RFS, was meddling with the ring in his pocket. He accidentally slipped it on and vanished.

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	8. Chapter 8: Vegetable Juice

Hello comrades, I only got TWO reviews on the last chapter!!! Come on people, even if you don't like it please review for pete's sake! Oooooohhhkaaaay...deep breath...

Thanks Mister Frodo for reviewing. You made my day with your single review (cries) and I dub thee my Most Dedicated Reviewer thus far (MDR) (Not to be confused with MCR). And thank you for being so honest. It means a lot to me.

Ps. If you people don't know what MCR is, then you need to get our more, or at least watch more MTV lol.

Okay, this chappy is a bit longer than normal because I am on a writing spree and I can't stop...ahhhhh! (falls off cliff) not really, but anyways yah. So read and REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Chapter Eight

Vegetable Juice

Wider's eyes lit up with flames from his pipe. Fido took off for his room, but he slipped the ring off as soon as he as out of sight from everyone else. Wider was right behind him and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and dragged him up the stairs. Fido screamed and howled so Wider batted him across the head.

"You would do well to…" he stopped when he saw his reflection in the hallway mirror. "Gosh, I am so hot," he thought to himself as he rubbed his stubbly beard. Fido looked disgusted.

"Are you a friend of Graydalf, cause you sure as 'ell act a lot like him," said Fido who was dangling limply from Wider's meaty hand.

"Who?" said Wider continuing to admire himself. He eventually broke out of his narcissistic revelry and commenced dragging Fido to the hobbit room.

"Who are you, who who, who who, Who are you? Who who, who who? Ahh I really wanna know, who who, who who, ah ah ah!" Fido sang the theme from CSI in his high-pitched voice.

"I am a friend of a friend of an enemy's mother's husband's second cousin's best friend's grandmother's daughter's half-sister's brother," said Wider sitting his filthy bottom on one of the now not-so-clean chairs.

"Sure…anyways, what do you want?" Fido continued, certain that this man was right out of an insane asylum.

"Are you frightened?" Wider asked, his eyes glinting maliciously.

"No, I'm Fido," the hobbit replied saucily.

"Not nearly frightened enough, I know what hunts you," continued Wider as if Fido had not said anything.

"You do?" asked Fido.

Just then a noise was heard in the corridor. Wider drew his sword, which was very plastic-looking, and waited.

The door burst open with Mirroy, Floppin and Spam in the middle of it.

"Oh no, don't kill him," Spam said in a monotone without any enthusiasm.

"Yeah, he's our…friend…" Floppin choked out the last word as if it pained him to say it.

"Don't worry my brave hobbits, your friend is in no danger from me, only from the foul fiends who pursue you over hill and dale, over mountain and stream, over…" Wider caught his reflection again in the mirror over the fireplace. "Oh lovely me!" he said aloud.

Spam looked at Mirroy with disgust. Floppin snickered meanly.

Meanwhile, the snack riders were galloping full speed toward the gate. They rapped politely and the gateman answered. "What do you want?" the gateman screamed in his usual style, the cigar almost completely burned down at this point.

"Have you seen any hobbits come though here lately?" asked one of the riders who's name happened to be Larry, the Witch King of Hanger.

"Aye?" the man said. "What do you want to know for?"

"We want to know for many reasons, our reasons are many, the many reasons we have are too many for too many reasons and I can't give you many reasons why they're so many reasons," Larry said.

"Oh. That's a good enough reason for me." The gateman ushered them though.

Back with our favorite hobbit and his comrades, Wider was toasting his toes by the fire and sipping some chamomile tea. The hobbits were rather wary of him for he kept giving them evil looks. They did not know that he was attempting to give them comforting looks but he was rather bad at making the right faces.

Because they knew that the riders would look for them, they made up some beds in the inn across the street to look like four hobbits were lying there. Fido had blown up a balloon for his head and put a mop head on it to look like hair. He thought the balloon looked a bit unrealistic so he grabbed his Sharpie Mini and drew a widely grinning face on it, forgetting that he was supposed to be asleep. Satisfied with his handiwork, he and the others marched back across the street and back into their own brightly lit room.

The snack riders tore through the streets of Spree like a gale, awakening all the townsfolk. The stormed into the other inn and went quietly into the supposed hobbits room. Fido and Wider were looking on.

"Why don't they just look in _this_ inn?" Fido asked sensibly.

"Because I sprayed this inn with vegetable juice," replied Wider as if what he just said had made sense.

"What would that do?" Fido questioned persistently.

"Because," Wider sighed with annoyance, "they are _snack_ riders. They don't like anything but snacks.

"But broccoli could be a snack," pushed Fido. "Or asparagus too."

"No, they only like unhealthy snacks, like cheetos or jax," Wider returned, becoming rather angry and glaring at Fido.

The riders clanked into the room where the 'hobbits' lay fast asleep. One of the riders screamed in fright as he saw one of the 'hobbits' grinning at him with a blank, empty smile. Larry whacked him. The grinning hobbit was of course Fido's balloon face.

Larry peered at it and realized it was a hoax. Instead of searching the other inns like any normal people would do, they went away.

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	9. Chapter 9: It Depends

Hey thanks to AllAmericanPirate for your reviews! You made my day. Anyways, other than you I got no other reviews!! How utterly horrendous! You should all be SUED!!! No, just kidding. Just please review, even if you only say ONE word. I don't care. Okee Dokee, lets stop all this blabber and get to the new CHAPTER!!! YAY!!!!!!!! Ok I'm done. This on eis actually a longer one so please enjoy. If you don't enjoy it then write to me and I'll buy you an Ice cream cone from Friendlys. No, actually I won't so don't bother. HA HA!

bye chumps!

Disclaimer: I Own LORD OF THE RINGS. I OWN THE WORLD. I OWN THE GALAXY. I wish.

Chapter Eight

It Depends…

Fido and Wider sat together watching the disappearing forms of the riders.

"What are they?" Fido asked looking bored.

"They are servants of the Dark Lord Shopperman. They do his bidding. They will never stop hunting you." Wider said in a scary voice, his eyebrows wriggling up and down.

Fido yawned very phony. "Snoozer," he said. "What's you real name?"

"Marigorn," replied Wider. "It used to be Marigold but that was dumb so I changed it."

Fido snickered.

The next day they left unceremoniously and without paying. Wider said they did not need to pay because the inn should be honored to have a swell fellow like himself staying there in the first place. Spam thought it was because Marigorn had spent his last few coins on brandy and schnapps, which was unfortunately true.

He led them through the forest, Fido whining and grumbling the entire time. Mirroy and Floppin were simply glad that they were out of the grasp of the visa company. Mirroy just hoped that they didn't foreclose on his house. Spam was a bit more suspicious of Wider, or Marigorn as he now called himself.

"Where are you taking us?" he demanded.

Marigorn stopped and looked east then west and then south and then west again. The he glanced up at the setting sun. He shrugged. "Beats me," and he continued walking.

Mirroy whispered to Spam, "How do we know if he's a friend or foe?"

"We give him a poly," was Spam's reply, "but since we're a bit down on goods lately we will just have to see what happens."

Since the hobbits were talking quite loudly, Marigorn could hear everything so he butted in and said, "Well, I am trying to get to Riversmell, but I lost my compass in a cheap hand of Smoker," he said sadly.

"Did you hear that 'ol Fido? Shelves! We're going to see the shelves!" said Spam excitedly.

"Button up," Fido snapped. He was in a rather foul mood at the moment and did not want to hear Spam's mindless ramblings about stupid old shelves. They were so fruity anyways who could stand them? Well, perhaps Graydalf could but that was understandable. And for that matter, why did they even need to go to Riversmell in the first place? The shelves never knew what to do about anything. All they did was decorate their houses, look pretty, and complain about how stupid and weak men were. Who needed them? Feeling miserable and having a horrid scowl set upon his brow, Fido trudged on.

The next day, at around ten in the morning, Mirroy, Floppin and Spam stopped and began taking out their pots and pans to cook second breakfast.

"Gentlemen, we do not stop until nightfall," Marigorn said slicking back his oily hair.

"Says you, pansy!" shrieked Floppin whose blood sugar was dangerously low.

Spam hit him. "Down Fang!"

"You want breakfast? Here's you flippin' breakfast!" Marigorn threw an apple at Floppin's head.

Mirroy gasped in utter horror. "How dare you?" He chucked the apple straight back at Marigorn's head and it hit him in the ear.

Needless to say, it was a very grumpy Marigorn who led the way after the second breakfast had been finished.

They traveled for many days until they came to some nasty bog. Not one of them smelled pleasant to begin with, but after being in the bog for only twelve minutes they completely reeked. Except Marigorn. One really couldn't tell the difference because he smelled that way all the time, Fido noticed.

Occasionally Marigorn caught a deer and cooked it until it was charred and uneatable. But they ate it anyways. Marigorn called it his 'Fillet à la Coal' for he thought it sounded fancy. He was the only one who actually liked the detestable stuff. Fido tried baking some Brioche au Sucre with some of the stuff he found along the trip but when they tried it, even he had to admit that it was revolting.

Meanwhile back at Piesengard, Showerman was talking to his Rubix Cube, which is how he communicated with Shopperman. He held his girly, long fluorescently pink painted fingernails over the cube. He thought 'I am at your service, Shopperman, Lord of the Mall.'

Shopperman thought back, 'Build me an army worth of Malldor.'

'But,' thought Showerman, 'what do I use? Green army men?'

'Yes,' Shopperman replied, 'and GI Joes. GI Joes, you can bend them, twist them and make them stand up. They're the best toys ever created. So go tell your parents to buy you a GI Joe today. They want YOU,' thought Shopperman sounding a lot like a commercial.

Showerman thought that green army men and GI Joes were dumb ideas. He decided to use porks instead. He would make big porks, small porks and medium porks.

Graydalf lay miserably on the top of Piesengard, his arms wrapped around his scrawny knees. "Why me?" he wailed to no one in particular. He looked at the catalogue he had brought with him. He loved looking at JC Nickel's ads. The places where the models were, in the photos, seemed so warm and nice. He wished he were good-looking enough to be a model. But his flabby arms and wrinkled brow would never allow him to do any sort of modeling except for maybe a nursing home. He vowed he would never be the sort to wear those adult diapers like some people had to. "Well, actually it Depends," he considered that they might not actually be so bad.

R&R!!! OR DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!


	10. Chapter 10

Thank you, Divinexglory and Mister Frodo for reviewing! You two made my day :-) Sorry I have been updating so fast, but i decided to tone it down a bit so sorry if it took me a bit longer than you are used to for me to update. I am also working on a new story called A New Dope and you both probably know, that when you start a new story, all you want to write is THAT one. But that one won't be published until I have a a lot more of it. I like being able to update whenever I want and not worry about having writer's block. So sorry it took me so long, but I hope you enjoy this next chappy! (Also I have become a bit obsessed with You Tube, as I am sure you also understand lol)

Chapter 10

Oxygen, Shmoxygen

Back with Showerman, he stood holding an enormous umbrella screaming orders at the porks who were unsuccessfully trying to tear all the trees out of the ground, along with the many giant billboards that surrounded Piesengard. One particularly ugly pork, with twenty bazillion tattoos and piercings and punked-out hair, ambled up to Showerman. "The trees are strong." He wiped sweat off his tawny brow, "And the billboards are even stronger."

"So?" said Showerman, his giant stomach wagging.

"Well, we might have to leave the billboards," the pork replied.

"Augh! You can never trust anybody to do anything right! You always end up doing it yourself!" Showerman yelled, his fat face becoming bright red. He marched, or waddled up to one of the pesky billboards and ran into it. He did this repeatedly until the billboard fell over. His sheer weight had been the key to knocking the neon-blinking advertisements over. After knocking three or seven over, he was very tired and had many large bruises on his stomach, where he hit the billboards. He threw himself down to the ground, which shuddered, and fanned his round face.

Some of the porks looked at the large blob of white, neon green, and hot pink and snickered. After around forty minutes, he rolled onto his stomach and wobbled to his feet. He looked around and seeing the porks still hard at work, he went back into his tower, taking another twenty minutes to climb the long flight of stairs. He settled down in his lounge with a bowl of jello and watched his favorite TV Land reruns.

Graydalf watched as the trees were cut down and the billboards were knocked over and he really didn't care. He hated trees anyways. So what if they provided all living things with oxygen? Who needed dumb old oxygen in the first place? Graydalf decided that he believed that if one tried hard enough, you could survive without the hassles of having to breathe. He decided to try. Unfortunately, it seemed better in theory and he ended up passing out like any normal person would.

Back with our friends the hobbits, Marigorn was leading them straight for a strange looking hill with enormous rocks on top.

"What it that?" said Fido, fidgeting with his coat.

"That," Marigorn waved dramatically, "that is Heathermop. It was once the great watchtower of Salmon Pool. We shall rest here ce soir."

Fido rolled his eyes. Marigorn was forever trying to speak French, but never used it in complete sentences. He always mixed it in with English. Fido suspected this was because he didn't know much at all.

They trudged up the steep hill, which was coated in slimy mud, until they finally got to a dry ledge and settled down.

Wider flung some rusty, nasty, worthless-looking swords at the hobbits. "Use these!" he screamed, and marched away rather quickly.

The hobbits really took no notice of Marigorn's antics and went about setting up their camp.

Later that night, Fido awoke to the sound of crackling flames. He sat upright and looked around sleepily. He saw to his horror the Mirroy and Floppin had carved a large sign in the side of the hill, which read in large, bold letters (set on fire so they could be seen for miles), "We are not here! We are not hobbits! We are not in credit card debt!"

Fido hastened to his feet. "What in the blazes are you doing?" he yelled. "We need to save the fire for breakfast! If you use all the fire now, we won't have anything left to cook with!"

"Chill, Mr. Paranoid! We have pa-lenty of firewood to last until morning," replied Mirroy, quite unfazed.

"That's not what I said, you bimbo! We could have all the firewood in the world but still have no fire to light it!" Fido said, looking very hideous for some reason. Perhaps it was the fact that he had been sleeping with cinderblocks for a pillow, or maybe it was all that awful icing he had eaten back in Hobbiton. Whatever the reason, he looked incredibly stupid and ugly, just the reason Mirroy and Flopping burst into loud guffaws.

"You don't need fire to make a fire!" Floppin said, amazed at Fido's obtuseness. "You just use a tinderbox!"

"Oh," Fido blushed, becoming bright pink, which did not improve his appearance in any way.

Spam, who had not really cared what was happening at the moment, and was looking out over the plains of the land, he suddenly saw some shadows gliding up the hill. A split second after Spam saw them, the other three glanced down the hill and observed the imminent danger as well. They all clutched at their swords and they all ran up the hill as fast as they could, which, in Fido's case, was very slow.

The four stood in a circle and waited for death to befall them. Soon they heard the infamous crunching sounds of the riders as they snacked their way up the hill towards the frightened hobbits. Strangely, Spam didn't seem a bit scared in the least. He yawned a bit, however.

Oooooooh. Anyways, REVIEW PEOPLE!!!!!! I Doth COMMAND THEE!


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey guys! Sorry I've been gone for so long! I've been working hard on my new story but I still have a long way to go. Yes, in reply to Mister Frodo, A New Dope is a parody of A New Hope from the original SW trilogy. I wrote this chapter today, rather quickly I might say, but I hope you like it. **

**-Monty Python**

Fido wheeled around and around as the sun began shining and soft music drawled a mindless summer tune. The larks danced in the soft green meadows and the crickets chirruped from the lofty, willowing heights of the happy poplars, which nodded their leafy, green-gold crowns in the sway of the gentle breeze. The brook bubbled…

"Look out Fido," Spam said in a monotone as a snacker raised his hideous fist, in which was clenched an ominous, enormous, sharp pretzel. Fido broke out of his imagery, and screamed, slipping on the thumb ring. What he saw amazed and hungered him. Instead of black hooded men with orange fanny packs, he saw four clowns…all dressed exactly like the guy from McDougalls! The clown with the pretzel slammed it into Fido's shoulder. "Owie!" Fido yelped, pulling the pretzel out easily, since it had barely scratched him.

Suddenly, out of the blue, right in the nick of time, just when all hope seemed to be lost, Marigorn came! He was pleasantly eating an ice cream, and humming a little tune. The tune became happier when he saw the snack riders looming over Fido who appeared to be dead. "Hey everybody look at me! I'm as happy as happy can be!" he sang merrily, forgetting that he was not exactly on good terms with the snack riders after the last time he met them when he had stolen every single snack they owned.

They all turned and looked at him. "It's him!" they screamed and lunged forward. They chased poor Marigorn for a quarter mile until he climbed a tree. "Hehehe," he taunted, sticking his fingers in his ears, "can't get me now! I win!"

Dejected, the riders turned away and rode off into the night. That just showed how stupid they really were. Proud of himself, and feeling extremely sexy, Marigorn leaped out of the tree, which showed how incredibly stupid _he _was, for he leapt when he was twenty-feet high. Landing rather hard, for the years of idleness had finally caught up with his stomach, he cried in agony and felt how cruel the world was. Nevertheless, he rose again, three and a half hours later, and made his way back to the hobbits and the hopefully dead Fido. When he arrived, Fido was writhing and very much alive.

"Halloo!" Marigorn cried.

"Hey," Spam said.

"Why aren't you dead, Fido?" Marigorn kicked him.

"Because I'm alive," Fido replied saucily.

"Well we can change that," Marigorn pulled out his dagger.

"AAAAAH! Please don't kill me! I don't want to die…I want to live…I want to be….Free! As free as the wind blows! As free as the grass grows! BORN free! As free as the…" Fido burst into song, which made Marigorn want to kill him even more. "Fishie?" Fido offered Marigorn a slightly moldy fish cracker.

"Ew," Marigorn cringed, effeminately flipping his hands away.

"More for me!" Fido happily crammed the fish cracker into his gaping mouth and chomped loudly, smacking his lips.

"Why me?" Marigorn threw his meaty hands up in despair.

"Because there's no one else?" Floppin suggested, picking his nose.

"Auuuuuuugh!" Marigorn screamed in disgust.

"Oh grow up, pansy boy," Floppin said, continuing to pick.

"I'm dying! Gah! I'm dying! Gah! I'm dying! Gah! I'm dying! G…" Marigorn lunged for the whimpering Fido and began choking him furiously.

Fido kneed him in the gut and hollered.

The fighting lasted for quite some time, but as it got rather repetitive, I shall skip ahead a few hours.

Marigorn and the four hobbits sat miserably on the ground rubbing their bruises and moaning.

"We should probably get going," Mirroy said. "We don't know if the snackers will be back."

"Yeah," Marigorn agreed. "I just hope we don't meet up with any shelves too soon. I want to keep that off for as long as possible."

"Why?" Fido asked in a high-pitched voice.

"Because I hate shelves," Marigorn replied.

"Do you hate hobbits?"

"Yes."

"Do you hate wizards?"

"Yes."

"Do you hate men?"

"Yes."

"Do you hate everybody?"

"YES!"

"Do you hate lava?"

"No."

"Good, then you can take my place," Fido said, handing Marigorn the thumb ring.

"Augh, no!" Marigorn hurled Fido onto a horse and tied him down. "Now, you will stay there for the rest of the journey. And be quiet!"

"But how will I eat?" Fido asked worriedly.

"You can eat the saddle," Marigorn said, apparently uninterested.

Spam chuckled under his breath. Things were going just right.

As always (and not meaning to be in any way demanding) REVIEW I DOTH COMMAND THEE!!!!!!


	12. Chapter 12: Pink

Hey people :-). I'm starting to make these chapters a bit shorter because not many people have been reviewing, and I have been focusing more on my New Dope story.

Anyways,

Rock on!

-Monty Python

Later that night, Fido did not seem to get better. The wound from the pretzel in his shoulder grew worse-looking by the minute. Perhaps it was because when no one was looking, he grabbed berries off of nearby bushed and squished them all over his 'wound'. He would occasionally cry out in pain, but the others paid him no heed. "I will never make it to Riversmell!" he winced. "It's far too long a journey, and my wound is beyond any mortal skill to heal!"

Marigorn backhanded him. "I really don't care. Now if you don't shut up, something awful will happen that neither of us will enjoy. And I'm not talking about me beating the crap out of you, because I would enjoy that very much. I'm talking about the worst thing that could EVER happen."

"What? What is it?" Mirroy asked eagerly.

Marigorn looked this way and that way and said in a hushed voice that wasn't hushed at all, "Arsewen might show up." He hastily shut up and walked a bit faster, going ninety miles an hour.

"YOU CALLED SMOOOCHIE-POO?" an extremely tall lady on a white horse darted out of the trees. The poor horse's mane was completely covered with pink ribbons, bows, lace and other nonsense, and the bridle was the most disgustingly hideously flowery-pink thing you could wish to see. The lady herself had eyes that were too close together, and a mouth so huge that it took up almost her entire face. Her nose was alright if you squinted a bit, and her shelven ears were three times too big for her head. She wore a completely pink outfit, topped with a neon green bandana which covered her very long hair. "I thought about painting the horse pink," she once said while having her room painted, "but daddy said it wasn't good for the economical veracity of the scientific legion's union."

She leaped off her poor, sad-looking horse and skipped over to Marigorn who was trying his best not to yank out his dagger and bury it deep into his heart. He attempted a smile but it came out as a sort of snarl. "Hi smoochie-poo! I came to get the kid with the wound, where is he, snoogly-shlumpkins?" she pinched Marigorn's cheek.

"He's over there," Marigorn grumbled, rubbing his sore cheek.

Arsewen kissed him on the other check and ran over to where Fido was lying. Marigorn furiously wiped his other cheek, suppressing the urge to vomit.

"Aw the poor baby! He needs to be taken to see daddy!" She tired picking Fido up, but with all the cream pastries he had eaten in town, he weighed a good deal more than one would suspect from a three-foot high creature. Huffing and puffing, she dragged him over to her horse, Assfallot, and yanked the horse down to its feet by pulling the mane. Then she rolled the perfectly capable hobbit onto the horse. Marigorn, watching the entire charade, did not bother to tell her that Fido was perfectly healthy and could walk on his own. He was glad that he was getting rid of two of his problems at the same time. He disliked Fido, and disliked Arsewen even more, if that was possible, for he disliked Fido immensely.

"Farwell snuggly-wuggly shnoopkins!" she waved, blew a kiss, and galloped off.

Marigorn breathed a sigh of relief. "Maybe they'll both die," he muttered hopefully.

Spam seemed a bit worried.

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